RAISED AND DROWNED.

About 5 years ago I left my rural home Kigoma in the western region of Tanzania. I had just cleared my form 4 levels and since I had no one to pay for my college education, I opted to hustle and look for jobs in Dar es Salaam city. Life wasn't so easy and I had to do odd jobs just to get something to eat as I was lucky to have a friend housing me as a visitor in this new town.
One day, I got a friend who worked as a chef in one of the clubs in town. He invited me to his work station and I stayed with him for about 1 hour sharing stories and having dinner as he interchanged between his jobs and attending to me. The live band was performing on stage and luckily enough the band leader asked for anyone who could do a freestyle song to come onto the stage. I took the opportunity and sang a song that had been done by one of the big local stars and was a hit back in the days. He later called me aside and asked if I could do something with him. I was later to be a backup artist for his performances at Mango gardens in Kinondoni.

That is how I started my music career and decided to look for a manager to handle my recordings and production in Dar es Salaam. Someone referred me to *Axel the well-known promoter. He took me to a production house and paid all the costs and from there onwards my first single about "A girl I loved much" got into the airwaves since Axel knew many media houses and maneuvered to take me to the top. My single topped the charts and was sold to other East African countries especially Kenya. I respect Kenyans for their love for our style of music.
I was rising so fast, it even surprised me. I had my first international concert in Nairobi Carnivore Simba saloon and well got about Tanzania shillings 3 million for my efforts. Axel was good, he was connecting me so fast and his concerts were sure crowd pullers. He made me a superstar in a few months and I even bought my first car only a few months into my career after a major concert I had in Europe.
I will never forget this particular concert I was to hold in South Africa. We fell out with my manager Axel on the amount I was to get for my performance. He wanted to set the standards and I felt I was rising and I deserved a higher percentage because it was mostly my effort and voice that people loved. I left Dar es Salaam on a one way ticket since Axel had promised to pay immediately after the show. I arrived on a Friday morning ready for my show which was to be on the same day evening from about 2100 hours.
The concert was to be held at Voodoo Lounge in the town of Johannesburg. We kept communicating with Axel till 1900 hours when he gave me a contact person who was to drive me to my concert. He would also be handling everything about the show and in the end pay my allowances as per collections. This guy’s name was Bruno. He didn’t fail to show up. He had a black S class Mercedes Benz. He picked me from the hotel where I was and drove off to a place I couldn’t tell since it was my first time in South Africa. The drive seemed longer than the initial expected and planned since I had done a shallow research and knew it was about an hour away.  Bruno was quite only nodding to the music that was playing in his car. We were just the two of us. I realized he was now heading to a slum area which I later learned was Soweto.
Bruno parked his car near a shipping line container and pulled out a pistol. Without speaking a word he only gestured me out of the car. I tried to ask what he was doing but he stretched his hand and said “Telephone wallet and watch now!”
I had no option but to hand him my handset, the wallet and my golden wrist watch my travelers bag which had my stuff had also been locked in his boot. As I stepped out of the car he also ordered me to remove my shoes and jacket. I was left standing barefoot and nobody to turn to. I couldn’t communicate with the locals so I kept repeating my music fame names. I knew I had to do something to get my way back home. Try the police or something.

There is this one old man who had witnessed everything, so he beckoned me with his middle finger a sign that only means an abuse around here. He was half bald and had dreadlocks too. I moved to him and half smile and almost crying of helplessness he pointed to a place called Moroka Police post. I had to go report there. Our English is not so good so I really had a difficult time communicating. He left me at the police post and rushed of.
Hungry and confused, I only had my God to protect and show me the way. I swear I prayed like never before. I was just seated at the OB front desk and praying in Kiswahili, and my mother tongue and a little of English words like Jesus Come Help. I can now laugh when I recall the whole ordeal. I stayed at the police post for the night with inmates as they had to get anyone who could help with the translations the next day.
When inside the police cells, I got this Tanzanian guy who spoke Swahili fluently but didn’t want any of the officers to notice he was an alien. So he spoke with me and even set a way of getting his brother to get me out of the cell and act as my relative who had been informed of my ordeal. My luck was here and at about 0900hours on Saturday I left with a brother I had never met to his house. He was a slum dweller and lived in a single room in Soweto too. With my bare feet and folded trousers, we walked through the dirty and rugged environment. When we reached his house, He told me the only way out of South Africa for me was to be in a week’s time and we would get some smuggler to get me out through Botswana and Zambia back to Tanzania. It meant pretending to be a turn boy in the transit trucks one after another. Back then I was just a naïve silly young man who didn’t even know about embassies and how helpful they were.
All I wanted was to come back home to my place where I was respected and upheld as a superstar. We hatched the plan that got me into more trouble by the border authorities in Tlokweng border. I was arrested and I kept singing Tanzania hahahaha. And they decided to take me to immigration officials who luckily enough helped me out. I was deported to my home in Dar es Salaam. No communication from Axel or anybody linked to him. Trying to contact him meant death threats and I had to keep off and follow my star.
Starting over was difficult and I took months trying to get shows. I had been branded a failure and whenever studio I visited for recordings turned me down. I was a “glutton and un appreciating”. I am lucky to have received Jesus after my frustrations and believe me even up to now nobody in the public domain knows that I gave up music. I listen to my voice and even hear people sing along as they play but I swear the things I saw and experienced in the hands of Axel hurt me to date. He even once ordered me to carry hard drugs to my show for his boys to sell to the revelers and my fans. I am glad and happy I kept saying No to all the bad things.

I am tempted to do something for my fans once more. Though life as a superstar hurts a lot. Media want to know whom you are dating, where you sleep, what you eat when out and how much wealth you have accumulated. You as a common man can even pee on a fence when pressed so bad but believe me I can’t do it. Not that it is impossible, No but because I am supposed to be different even to calls of nature.
When I returned home from my torment in the south, I had a rough time and ended up selling my car to pay for the rent. Now I double as a shopkeeper in my business and as a Cab operator in the evenings. I had gotten used to handling big cash. It hurts. I want to take time out for a while then rebuild myself. I have been approached by other managers but I am cautious now. All my singles were super hits and I want to do more of that when I am sure and steady.
My advice to upcoming artists is simple “DON”T LET MONEY AND WEALTH FOOL YOU. WITHOUT GOD YOU ARE NOTHING.MAN FAILS AND HURTS BUT NOT OUR HEAVENLY FATHER”


Disclaimer : The names in this story are not Real characters names and are used specifically for publishing purposes.

Special thanks to Khalid Hanif Dar es salaam Tanzania.
Narrated by :Deuz on behalf of the main Artist. Dar es salaam tanzania.
Additional research by : Roosevelt Benard
Photography Courtesy of African Labs.
For Paree International Productions.
Inspiring forever.